


That Candlemas Eve

by Gelid_illuminant



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Emotional Manipulation, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, M/M, Manipulation, New Years, New Years Eve, candlemas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:35:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22031914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gelid_illuminant/pseuds/Gelid_illuminant
Summary: Aziraphale loves Christmas decorations, Crowley doesn't, until he discovers the benefits of misletoe
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley
Comments: 2
Kudos: 21





	That Candlemas Eve

After he had agreed to save Crowley's life, Aziraphale had had to admit to himself that they were in fact friends. Best friends, even, as Crowley had said. It *did* make sense, in a strange sort of way. They were both eternal beings, as old as it was possible to be, without being God Herself. All the other relationship options were rather limited by the short span of time in which they could last. 

Aziraphale did have other friends, of course. You couldn't be a being of love without having friends. There had to be some way to let it out, after all. A way other than books, that is. Most of his friends were other book-sellers, restraurateurs, the odd waiter here and there. There was also Madame Tracy; it was hard not to become friends with someone whose body you had inhabited - although Madame Tracy was under the impression that she had met Aziraphale through his work with the Witchfinders Army.

Mainly, however, he spent his leisure hours with Crowley. It had become part of the Arrangement. At this point, they spent so much time together that it might be sensible to just move in together! But no, that was silly. An angel and a demon couldn't live together, even if they were on the same side, as it were. As much as Crowley might want them to live together. Thinking about that made Aziraphale's head hurt. Right now, everything was good, and he couldn't have Crowley going and complicating things like that. Besides, his apartment didn't have any books in it.

Today, the pair (although Aziraphale did NOT think of them as a pair) were walking through St. James Park, chatting about the New Year's Eve party they had thrown a couple of days earlier. It had been Crowley's idea - the party, and in fact New Year's itself. "So whatever possesed you to create a FESTIVAL, Crowley?" Aziraphale was asking between licks of his ice cream. "Well," began Crowley, waving his lolly vaguely, "making people stay up late, lots of loud noises, making dogs bark and waking up old ladies; what's not to like?"

"But it makes people so happy, to ring in the new year!" Aziraphale countered petulantly. Crowley smiled wickedly. "If you say so, angel. But I've been doing this for a long time, I know my business." He sucked noisily at his lolly. Today it was orange-flavoured. Aziraphale swelled with indignation. "You're retired, of course. The Arrangement."  
"Yeah, well, the odd job here and there, just to keep ol' Bub off my back. I'm sure you do the same." Crowley mumbled around his mouthful.

"I do Good Deeds out of the kindness of my heart, thank you very much!" Aziraphale sniffed. He turned his attention fully to his ice cream now, putting on airs of ignoring Crowley, who was being very silly at the moment. Crowley just laughed. "Of course, of course you do! You do-gooder you. Not at all an arsehole in anyway!"  
"Hmph!"  
"See? You're such a stand-up guy!"

They found a bench beside the pond and settled in. Aziraphale made sure to sit as far from Crowley as he could, to allow him room to spread out and lounge in that way he always did. Crowley reposed blissfully, one arm leaning on the back of the seat, one leg stuck directly into Aziraphale's personal space. Aziraphale smiled and forgave him. "It WAS a good party though, wasn't it." He said. "I was particularly pleased with the savoury nibbles." Aziraphale had been in charge of catering for the party.

Crowley gave no impression of noticing Aziraphale, and sucked at his lolly again. "I didn't like the decorations," he mumbled. Aziraphale smiled again. "Whatever do you mean? Christmas decorations at New Year's is traditional, surely."  
"Yeah, but I don't really like tradition. And you know how I am about Christmas." Said Crowley. Aziraphale's smile broadened. "You invented it!" 

Then Crowley sighed, and shifted position (almost jabbing his elbow into Aziraphale's face). "My philosophy is, one holiday at a time. You can't have Christmas *and* New Year's." He said. Aziraphale shook his head. "Christmas decorations are to be taken down at Candlemas Day and not before!" Crowley looked over at him curiously. "When's Candlemas?"  
"Feburary the second. As laid out in Luke two twenty-two to fort-"  
"FEBRUARY THE SECOND!?" Crowley exclaimed, squeakily. "You CAN'T be serious! February the SECOND! There's NO way I'm doing Christmas until FEBRUARY THE SECOND!"

"It's traditional and it's lovely!" Aziraphale argued. "The tree and the Nativity sets, the lights and the holly, the misletoe..."  
"Huh, misletoe." Muttered Crowley as he endevoured upon his lolly. "Misletoe, there's a thought."  
"What about miseltoe?"  
"Oh, nothing. Just thinking about how it's poisonus."  
"Ah, I see." Aziraphale did not see, but he peered at Crowley curiously, trying to see through that red-tatched head at the thoughts underneath, to no avail.

When they parted with a friendly handshake, it was with a promise that Aziraphale would bring wine the next evening to Crowley's apartment, and they would discuss that new series on ITV. With that, Crowley headed for the shops, deep in thought. He had a plan now, finally. And it was definitely going to work. There was an after Christmas sale still going in one shop; he quickly bought up all the stuff he would need, and went home to prepare.

The doorbell rang cheerfully several times - Aziraphale liked doorbells so he always pressed them a few times over. A short wait later and Crowley buzzed him in. Aziraphale climbed the stairs two at a time, then checked himself. He wasn't THAT eager to see Crowley, not at all. He was just eager to get into the wine; it was good stuff, and he'd brought plenty. Up the stairs he went, then knocked on the door. 

When Crowley opened it, Aziraphale let out a delighted gasp. Crowley was wearing a Santa hat. It was crooked, and still had the tag on, but it was good enough. "I knew you'd come around! You really listened to me!" Aziraphale exclaimed as he gently shuffled past Crowley into the apartment. He gasped again, even more delighted to see the effort to which Crowley had gone to in decorating the place. "This is just lovely, Crowley!"  
"I thought you'd say that" Crowley grinned lazily. "Shall we open that wine?"

A few hours and a few bottles later, Aziraphale was happily taking coins out of various parts of Crowley's anatomy - mostly around the head area. Crowley sat back and let him do it, just glad to be part of the fun. Just as long as he didn't start trying to teach Crowley how the trick was done. After a few minutes of this, Aziraphale flopped down on the couch and sighed deeply. "So, why did you go to all this effort, Crowley? You didn't even put up a tree for Christmas."

Crowley smiled a sneaky smile and laid his arm across the top of the couch. His hand ended up quite close to Aziraphale's ear. "I just thought, what the Heaven, I'd join in the spirit of things. And you can take it down for me on Candlemas." He said, blearily. Aziraphale gave a nonplussed smile. "Why would I take your decorations down?"  
"Because," said Crowley, shifting a bit closer, "you're going to be here, so you might as well."

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean!" Aziraphale said, standing up and putting down his empty glass. Crowley grinned up at him. "I know you want to spend more time together, angel. I know the truth. That's why I did this!"  
"Di-did what?"  
"The decorations of course!" Crowley laughed, gesturing around at the decked-out apartment. "This is all for you! All of it. Sit down, now, Aziraphale." And Aziraphale sat down, on the very edge of the couch.

"You're acting strangely, Crowley. I do believe you are drunk." Aziraphale said, not looking at Crowley. Crowley shrugged. "I don't think I'm drunk. I didn't even want to get drunk tonight." He looked meaningfully across at Aziraphale, who happened to be looking at Crowley at the same time. Aziraphale hurriedly broke eye-contact, but Crowley kept gazing at him. "You...always want to get drunk. What's different about tonight?" 

The vinyl of the couch squeaked as Crowley shuffled closer again. He took off his glasses. "Because," he said, quietly. "Tonight is THE night, Aziraphale. It's the night you get off your high horse and move in with me. You can't be happy in that tiny place of yours, all alone. And I know you want to be with me. Why wait any longer?" Crowley reached one hand out and placed it on Aziraphale's arm. The angel tensed right up.

"Crowley, this is...too much. You're getting dangerously close to manipulation here." Aziraphale whispered, not knowing why, turning his head away from Crowley again. The warm hand on his arm was removed, and a silence ensued. It ticked on, until finally Crowley spoke. "I'm sorry, Aziraphale. I'm just...getting impatient."  
"Well...I've said it before and I'll say it again. You move too fast for me, Crowley." And with that, Aziraphale got up and left.

It was Candlemas Eve, night. Aziraphale sat alone in his shop, reading a first edition Grimm's Fairytales. He kept reading the same sentence again and again. He kept reading the same sentence again and again. He kept reading the same sentence again and again. He hadn't seen Crowley since that night. It stank, it really stank, and it hurt. But he just couldn't face the demon now. Finally, he put the book aside, got up from his comfortable chair and knelt on the floor. He put his hands together and prayed.

"God, I don't know if I deserve to be an angel anymore. I can't tell right from wrong, not like you can. Why is that such a bad thing anyway? Nevermind, off topic. So...why do I feel this way? About the enemy? It's...wrong. Isn't it? Well?" Aziraphale took a deep breath and waited for guidance. Nothing came. "I mean, I know we're meant to love our neighbours and all that, but does that apply to the other side as we-"  
He broke off in sudden realisation. He HAD to see Crowley, right away.

Rising from the warm pink embrace of the pillows was too much to handle right now, but there was a tinny whistling that just wouldn't go away. It was the doorbell, ringing over and over again. Over and over again. Crowley groaned and pulled a pillow over his head, but all it did was mess up his hair. The doorbell kept ringing. "Go 'way!" He yelled vaguely. It just kept ringing and ringing, so finally he got up, pulled a robe on over his black satin pyjamas, and went to the door buzzer.

A pale, perfumed shape burst through the door, yammering rapidly. "Crowley, I realised something incredible just now! You'll never believe it, it just came to me like that!"  
"Aziraphale...? I thought you weren't talking to me..." Crowley sat on the couch, too tired to deal with this. Aziraphale just kept going. "The misletoe, I get it now! But that's not the point! *God* says it Herself! It's meant to be! And it's okay!"  
"God says what now?"  
"God says it's okay to love your enemy! That we SHOULD! And besides, we're on OUR side now!"

"Aziraphale, what're you saying exactly?"  
Aziraphale grinned broadly and took Crowley by the hand. He lead him across the room to stand directly under a sprig of misletoe that was hanging crookedly from the ceiling light. "A pagan tradition, but who cares? I want to try it!"

A few days later, Crowley's apartment was full of books.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time ever posting a piece of writing so please be kind and leave any suggestions in the comments!


End file.
